


Ice and Fire and Porn

by Frenchcroatiansquid



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 31 Days of Porn Challenge 2017, Aerwin, Aerwin smut, Aerys won't let an unfair advantage stop him, Almost fluffy tickles, Blow Jobs, Complicated Relationships, Cyvasse, Drabble Collection, Lots of consent issues actually, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, The many uses of cyvasse pieces, The many uses of icicles, Throne Sex, role play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-10-31 11:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10898802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchcroatiansquid/pseuds/Frenchcroatiansquid
Summary: They are young and in love. The sex is good. Everythingcould be sois perfect.Written for the 31 Days of Porn Challenge 2017





	1. King and Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [AtlinMerrick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtlinMerrick/pseuds/AtlinMerrick) in the [31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  ~~Pretending~~ Chapter 1: King and Hand  
>  Nursing or Lactating  
>  ~~Unusual sex toy(s)~~ Chapter 2: Strip Cyvasse  
>  Food  
> Pet Play  
> Misunderstanding  
> Uniform or Clothing Kink  
> Body Fluids  
>  ~~Hot or Cold~~ Chapter 6: Hot or Cold  
>  Spanking  
> Looking After  
> Breeding  
>  ~~Somnophilia~~ Chapter 4: Two Drops and a Half  
>  Daddy Kink / Incest / Age Play  
> Piercings or Jewelry  
> Masturbation  
>  ~~Costume or Disguise~~ Chapter 5: Flea Bottom  
>  Exhibitionism  
> Past or Future  
> Frottage  
> Epistolary / Sexting  
> Body Worship  
> Priest or Religion  
> Coitus Interruptus  
> Five Senses  
> Voyeurism  
> Lingerie, heels, dress  
> Worst and Best  
> Begging  
> Accidental Stimulation  
>  ~~Laughing~~ Chapter 3: Deliciously Tight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretending:  
> Tywin likes to pretend he is King. Aerys thinks that's the hottest thing since wildfire. It's a good time for everyone.

The golden chain felt cold on his bare skin as he approached the throne wearing nothing but the Hand's badge of office around his neck. A sudden draft of air made him shiver as he went to one knee, bowing his head. “Your Grace.”

“Rise.” A familiar voice commanded.

He got to his feet, a mischievous smile on his face as he raised his head to lock eyes with the man towering above him. His friend too was naked as his nameday, save for the crown of gold on his head matching the color of his hair.

He slowly ascended the stairs under the unflinching gaze of the man on the throne. There was nothing to hold on to, only cold iron blades to his left and right.

Shortly before he reached the top, he went to his knees again. “Your Grace, I am but your humble servant.” He bent his head, playfully flicking his tongue over the tip of the other man's cock.

His friend's face remained expressionless, as if made of stone. Aerys smiled, a sudden spark in his eyes. _So serious_ , he thought as he lowered his head again. _Why, let's see if we can change that._

 


	2. Strip Cyvasse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unusual sex toy(s)

Aerys lifted the screen, revealing the arrangement of tiles on the other side of the board. _Rivers, mountains, deserts_ , he thought. _He's built himself some formidable barriers_. Tywin always liked to play it safe, retreating more than advancing and planning every move with the utmost care.

Aerys himself preferred to go with his gut feeling. His eyes briefly darted back and forth between his heavy horse and his catapult before settling on a piece of rabble.

His friend's eyes were locked on the board, studying it closely as if he was playing out every possible scenario in his head. _Ah, you take this game much too seriously_.

Aerys let his dragon sweep in, taking out two spearmen and a light horse, touching the tip of his tongue to each of the pieces as if to taste them before placing them on the side of the board. “I'm going to eat all your pieces, and then I'm going to have you for dessert,” he chuckled.

The rules of their game were simple: a piece of clothing for every piece lost, and the loser had to bend over for the other.

Tywin took off his tunic, his sleeveless doublet and his undertunic without protest before focusing his attention on the board again.

Aerys, on the other hand, had lost all ability to concentrate the moment his friend had bared his perfectly toned chest. “You couldn't possibly have taken something else off first?” He complained. “You're trying to distract me. That's cheating.”

“Is it?” Tywin smiled as he took the Targaryen's most powerful piece off the board. _You're so careless I don't even have to distract you,_ the look in his eyes seemed to say.

Aerys cursed himself. _He lured me in, and I fell for it._ Somehow he always did. But the sight of his half naked lover licking the white marble piece almost made up for the pain of losing his dragon. He slipped out of his tunic with deliberate casualness, dropping it on the floor.

He lost piece after piece after that until he was sitting in nothing but his smallclothes.

But just as he was about to lose those too, he noticed the opening on the board. _Taking my dragon has made you a bit too confident, my friend_.

He snatched Tywin's king with a triumphant grin. “You must be _very_ desperate for some dragon cock that you would let me win so easily.” He taunted. “Or was it _carelessness_ that doomed you?”

Tywin rose. “I need to go, Your Grace. I have a meeting with the master of coin.” His face was inscrutable as always, but Aerys knew just how much being defeated at cyvasse irked him.

“That's alright. I suppose I can wait.” He looked at the cyvasse piece in his hand, and his smile widened. _The King._ The piece was smooth enough and it had a base. It would do. “Bend over,” he said. “You'll wear this until tonight, lest we forget who won this round.”

 


	3. Deliciously Tight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laughing

Tywin was in his solar, writing letters, _important_ letters. Somehow, Aerys always found him irresistible when he was trying to act all serious. He snuck up on his friend from behind, wrapping his arms around him, nuzzling his neck and nibbling his ear.

Tywin had heard him coming. “Stop it, Aerys,” he said, firmly pushing him aside. “I'm trying to work. _One_ of us has to.”

“Ah, but I'm _bored_ ,” Aerys pouted, choosing to ignore the jibe.

Tywin shot him a disapproving look. _What are you? Five?_ His eyes seemed to say before he returned his attention to the letters, reaching across the table for the royal insignia.

But Aerys was the king and not one to be ignored. A smile crossed his face. _I'll show you who's five_ , he thought. Just as Tywin was about to press the seal into the hot wax, he dug his hands into his sides, ruthlessly running them up and down.

The reaction exceeded all his expectations. His friend squealed and locked his arms down, dropping the seal and knocking over the candle on his desk as he did so.

Aerys wrapped his arms around him, continuing to assault his waist until his friend had dissolved into a fit of undignified giggles, twisting his body in an attempt to escape the ticklish embrace.

Tywin _probably_ could have easily fought him off had he tried in earnest, but he didn't dare raise a hand against his king, and Aerys wasn't going to let the unfair advantage deter him in any way.

“Do you yield?”

“Yes! Just... just stop!” Tywin tried to sound stern, but a wave of laughter got in the way of that.

“If I stop, will you do as I say?” Aerys asked.

“Yes... Fine. Yes!”

He stopped.

“Thank the gods, the king has recovered his wits,” Tywin said, trying to regain some semblance of dignity, straightening his tunic.

“Now you have to do as I say,” Aerys reminded him. “Raise your hands.”

Tywin threw him a look full of exasperation. “I do have to finish these letters.”

“Yes, but who are you writing them for? Me. I'm the King, and I _command_ you to keep your arms up,” he said, a smirk on his face. “ _Do it_.”

Reluctantly, Tywin laced his fingers behind his neck. “This is childish, Your Grace.” He protested.

“Yes, yes, very much so,” Aerys grinned. “But I can't help it. You're just too adorable when I make you laugh.”

Tywin rolled his eyes. Aerys knew he _hated_ being called adorable almost as much as he hated being tickled.

His whole body had tensed up in anticipation. This was the part Aerys loved best: watching his friend squirm as he pondered his first strike, making several mock attacks before digging his fingers into his armpits.

Tywin let out a shriek, pulling his arms down reflexively.

“Ah! Arms above your head!”

“You are cruel,” Tywin complained, raising his arms back up.

“Yes,” Aerys said. “I am indeed. But let's see if I can find _the spot_.” He slowly moved his fingers up his Hand's sides, probing his ribs until he had found what he was looking for and was rewarded with a staccato of panicked giggles.

Tywin was doubling over, struggling to keep himself from pulling his arms down.

Aerys slipped a hand under his tunic, pushing up his undershirt and wiggling his fingers over his bare skin.

That was more than his friend could take. His arms shot down to protect the sensitive area.

Aerys pulled his hands back, laughing, before bending down and burying his head in his hair, placing a kiss on his neck. “You are adorable.”

This time, Tywin did not protest. Instead, he drew the king onto his lap, kissing him with a fervor the other man had not expected.

 _Oh, so now you're trying to distract me just so I'll stop tormenting you_ , Aerys thought. But he couldn't say he particularly minded this kind of distraction.

As they tumbled onto the bed, he couldn't help but think what it would feel like to give his friend a tickle while he was inside of him. _Tight_ , he thought. _That's what it'll feel like. Deliciously tight._

 


	4. Two Drops and a Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somnophilia

The king was agitated. “They don't understand,” he said. “I'll build that city of marble. I'll show them all, I will!”

Tywin wrapped his arms around him, rocking him back and forth. “Shh... it's alright. I believe in you.” He took the cup he had brought and held it to Aerys's lips. “This will help you rest, Your Grace.”

The king took a sip. “Will you keep me company?” He asked.

Tywin nodded, lying down beside him, feeling his heartbeat slow until his pulse was barely palpable and his breathing was so weak he could no longer hear it.

Then he sat up and shook the king, turning him around and slapping his face, but Aerys did not wake. _Two drops and a half – almost three – as close to death as a man can get without actually dying_. He always let the Grand Maester prepare the dosage for fear of accidentally killing the king.

His manhood stiffened at the sight of the limp body in front of him. He pulled down Aerys's pants and began rubbing himself against his buttocks. _Nothing you can do to stop me. You'll never even know this happened_. He always made sure not to injure the king, carefully stretching him and coating himself in oil before entering him.

Aerys felt warm and wet and tight around his manhood.

But just as he was about to finish, he began to stir. _Pycelle, what did you do? You got the dose wrong_.

“What are you... what are you... doing?” Aerys's speech was slurred, his eyes droopy. “Stop! Tywin, stop! You're hurting me!”

Tywin covered his mouth with his hand. “Be quiet.”

Aerys tried to turn around and push him off, but he was still in a state of weakness and confusion from the poison, unable to defend himself.

Tywin slapped him. “Stop moving!” This contemptible creature was not going to ruin this for him, he decided.

The king was crying, silently sobbing into his pillow as he spilled his seed.

Tywin got up, wiped himself clean and started dressing himself.

Aerys sat up, his body still shaking, looking at him with his wide, purple eyes. “I thought you were my friend.”

He couldn't have thought of a more pathetic thing to say. It was this naivety he hated most in the other man. “You're the king. You don't have any friends. When will you finally understand that?”

 


	5. Flea Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Costume or Disguise:  
> Aerys and Tywin dress up as smallfolk, go to Flea Bottom, and have sex in a cheap room. Because hey, why not.

The inn's common room was dark and smoky, the ale bitter and thick on his tongue. The taste reminded Aerys of his childhood.

“Grandfather used to take me here as a boy,” he said. “Once every year. Just shaved my head, dressed me in servant's clothes and took me to Flea Bottom to get us a good bowl o' brown.” Now, a _hood_ hid his long silver hair, and that worked just as well. Nobody paid them any mind.

“Why would he do that?” Tywin was sitting on the edge of his chair, trying to touch as little as possible, making no effort to hide his disgust. His ale was untouched as well. He eyed Ser Gerold sitting in the corner, his sword hidden underneath his long brown overcoat.

Aerys shrugged. “I suppose he enjoyed getting out of the castle and pretending to lead a simpler life every once in a while. He told me it's important for a king to know how the smallfolk live. You know he squired for a hedge knight when he was young. Perhaps he missed those days.”

Tywin did not respond, but the King could guess what he was thinking.

“Well, _I_ like coming here. And so would _you_ if you gave the place a chance.”

His friend ignored that. “We should go. It's getting late.”

“Oh yes, it is. We should get ourselves a room, or else everything will be taken.”  _Don't look so shocked._

The innkeep was a dour woman perhaps forty years of age with gray hair and only half her teeth left. She eyed them suspiciously, as if she knew something about them was wrong but couldn't tell what exactly it was. “I don't want no trouble,” she said.

“We won't be, I promise.” Aerys gave her his most charming smile.

The innkeep shrugged. “It's three silvers a night, Your- … you're going to like it. It's the best room we have.”

The _best room_ turned out to be no more than a small cell with a chair and a single straw mattress. But it _did_ have a window overlooking Pisswater Bend.

“I'll be waiting outside, Your Grace.” Ser Gerold said.

Aerys grabbed his arm before he could slip out. “Ah, but how would that look to anyone passing by? Two poor travelers who somehow have enough coin to pay a man to guard their room?”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” The captain of the Kingsguard sat down by the window.

Tywin was inspecting the mattress. “It's full of fleas,” he concluded. “And bedbugs.”

Aerys kissed his neck, unlacing his linen tunic. “You make such a lousy commoner,” he teased. “But if you're worried about the bed, I'd be just as happy to let you take me against the wall.”

The prospect of getting to fuck his King seemed to lighten the Hand's mood, enough even to make him forget Ser Gerold was still in the room with them. “Well, as long as _I_ won't have to touch it,” he said.

 


	6. Hot or Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot or Cold

“Hot or cold?”

Aerys's finger was tracing a thin vein on the underside of his friend's privy parts, all the way down, until his fingertip rested against that tight, rosy ring he loved so much.

“Hot or cold?” He repeated.

“This is ridiculous, Aerys. Let me go.”

Tywin was on his back, barely able to move, his hands bound above his head, his legs tied at the knees and pulled back, his bare feet dangling in the air, giving his King the perfect view of all he had to offer.

 _Not exactly the best spot to be in to be making demands_ , Aerys thought, smiling. He was thoroughly enjoying this. And so would his Hand, he knew, even though he did not seem to understand that just yet.

It had taken a lot of _persuading_ to get Tywin to agree to be tied down in such a vulnerable position. At first, he had scoffed at the mere suggestion. Once he realized Aerys was serious, he had protested. In the end, of course, the King had managed to convince him, just like he always did. _Perhaps threatening to seize Casterly Rock for the Crown wasn't entirely fair_ , he thought. _But surely even he_ _must know that was only a jest_. Now was not the time to clarify though.

“Hot or cold?” His finger teased into the hole. “If you don't chose one, you will get both.”

Tywin was squirming uncomfortably. “Just let me _go_ , Aerys.”

 _Always stopping short of saying please_ , the King thought _._ But that did not bother him, not while his Hand was so deliciously helpless. “Last chance,” he hummed.

“Fine. Cold.”

“Ah, _excellent_ choice!” Aerys got up and walked over to the window, returning with two handfuls of long, thick icicles and placing them on the bedside table. Cold wasn't as much fun as hot, but it _was_ his second favorite in the game of _Hot or Cold_. “I wish I could tell you that this was transported thousands of leagues from beyond the Wall only to serve in our play,” he said. “But alas, these grew just outside my window.”

Tywin's eyes widened. “You cannot be serious, Your Grace.” He was probing his restraints, perhaps noticing for the first time he was indeed stuck.

“Oh, but I am.” Aerys picked up one of the smaller icicles, breaking off the tip and sucking on it to smooth out the rough edges before returning his attention to the quivering body in front of him. “Shh, _relax_ , this is going to be _amazing_.” He used the icicle to draw small, watery circles around Tywin's hole before starting to gently slide it in.

His poor Hand was struggling against his bonds, curling his toes and clenching his muscles, but Aerys pushed past the resistance with ease until the ice had fully disappeared.

“Shhh... it's alright...” He reached over the bed to grab another icicle, repeating the procedure. “There... that's it...”

By the time he was done, his friend had stopped struggling, lying stock-still on the bed as his body tried to make sense of the odd sensation. But when the King reached for more ice, he started to panic again. “That's enough! Are you trying to kill me? Aerys, _please_!”

 _Ah, finally_.

“Don't worry.” Aerys bent down and flicked his tongue over the sore hole before starting to slowly insert the last piece of ice. “You'd be amazed how much your bowels can hold,” he chuckled, stroking his friend's cold belly. “But when I say _hold_ , I mean it. If I see any water leaking out, I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish you. Now, _relax_. This would be so much easier if you stopped clenching your muscles.”

He used his index finger to push the rest of the icicle all the way in. “How does it _feel_?” He asked.

Of course, the King knew _exactly_ how it felt: the initial burn as the ice made contact with his most sensitive flesh, the familiar feeling of fullness with an icy twist, the urge to run to the privy, the cramps building in his lower belly as his bowels tried to expel the cold mass, and finally, the numbness spreading through his body from the inside out, making him feel dizzy and intensifying every sensation in his body.

“Odd... it feels odd... _wrong_...” Tywin's face had turned pale, his body shaking as his organs' temperature dropped.

“Let me make it _right_ , then.” Aerys wrapped one hand around his friend's shaft, rubbing it while slipping a finger inside him, probing the icy canal until he had found his sweet spot. “Doesn't that feel amazing?” He whispered, watching Tywin try to buck his hips. “Your body all confused what to do. Should it send more blood to your bowels to melt that ice? Or is _this_ more important? Oh, what an _exquisite_ dilemma...”

All he got in response was a long, frustrated groan. He bent down and started swirling his tongue over the tip of Tywin's twitching cock, licking and teasing him before taking him in all the way.

His eyes were watering and he had to fight back the gagging sensation in his throat, but feeling his friend turn into a trembling, writhing mess was worth the discomfort.

His throat was contracting as he moved up and down, back and forth, until he felt the body underneath him convulse violently and tasted that familiar musky taste in his mouth. He waited until the twitching had stopped completely before he pulled his head up, taking a look at the piece of art he had created.

His Hand's eyes had rolled back as if he was about to pass out, every muscle in his body completely limp. It was then that Aerys noticed the stain of icy water slowly expanding on the sheet. He looked at the mattress, then at his Hand's face.

Tywin looked strangely satisfied for someone who had needed so much convincing to even give this a try.

“Oops,” he said.

 


End file.
